Young squire's frolic/A favourite hunting song

A FAVOURITE HUNTING SONG.

THE rising Aurora now gilds the sweet morn,
And renders all eager to welcome the horn,
What thousands of transports the chace will impart,
When timorous Reynard,
When timorous Reynard we boldly will start, etc.
Hence with your dull lovers who languish forlorn,
And sigh for their Chloes, neglecting the horn;
We true jolly sportsmen at large ever rove, We, etc.
And only the chacing,
And only the chacing engages our love, etc.
The fresh blooming morn our presence invites,
To take endless pleasures and rural delights:
Then why do you tarry, when raptures await;
Our witness to crown, and our bless to complete?
How enticing the joys that arise from the game?
Haste hither ye sportsmen, and seek after fame;
No longer let's dally, but swift let us fly,
What pleasure like joining the hounds in full cry.

Then onward my heroes, and let us ne’er cease,
’Till wily old Reynard shall fall in the chace,
The sport so enchanting, our heart will delight,
While health a diversion together unite,
There, there he is yonder, huzza! tally ho!
To steal away trying, yet fearing to go:
Now, now he is started, oh! joyful surprise!
He pines and he trembles, he pants and he dies.